Intruder
by Kayla-NCIS-Gomez
Summary: The one thing that can strike fear in the heart of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs has happened. Something has happened to one of his people. Ten hours previous, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo went missing, leaving behind only a trashed apartment and blood. It's a race against the clock to find their senior field agent before it's too late. Is the intruder someone we know? Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

It was a bright, beautiful, Monday morning. It was an ordinary day, the same as any other Monday. Ziva David was leafing through an old cold case, using her knife to turn pages, Timothy McGee was on his computer, doing god knows what, and Anthony DiNozzo was… nowhere to be seen. Gibbs was not a happy man, this morning. In fact, most people described him as an angry bear. He was sure embracing that image now, with a well practiced scowl and a cross armed, unhappy position.

Tony was never this late. There was of course the usual ten-twenty minute days, where DiNozzo lost track of time, got stuck in traffic, or even brought breakfast for the team. This morning though, Tony was an hour late, and Gibb's gut was screaming at him. He had had enough.

"McGee!", Gibbs called out to him. His head snaps up like a guilty puppy getting caught.

"Yes boss", McGee answers, closing whatever he was doing on the computer down.

"Have you called DiNozzo?", Gibbs asks. McGee immediately looks relieved that he didn't ask about what he was doing.

"Yes boss, four times", McGee replies, now only realizing that Tony is later than he's ever been.

"Ziva?", Gibbs asks, turning towards her desk now. She snaps to attention, not needing to be asked the question.

"Seven times, no answer", she answers, now a bit embarrassed at the number, after saying it out loud.

"Trace his cell phone McGee", Gibbs demands. 'He probably just had some car troubles', Gibbs assures himself, knowing full well that it was futile.

"Got it. It says… it says he's at his apartment boss", McGee states uncertainly. Should he be relieved or even more worried?

"Gear up", demands Gibbs, only to turn around to the backs of his remaining team, all ready and heading towards the elevator. He has a brief moment of pride before going back to business. 'You better have a damn good reason DiNozzo', Gibbs thinks, following his team to the elevators. If only he knew…

10 hours previously…

Anthony DiNozzo was happily sitting on his couch watching a James Bond marathon. He mechanically shovels buttery popcorn into his mouth, entranced by his 72' inch HD surround sound LED television. He could never get tired of the British spy sagas.

Just as he was in the middle of imitating one of Sean Connery's lines, playing it out fully with his own gun; an insistent knock on his door makes its way to his ears.

"Abby? Is that you?", Tony calls out, walking toward the door.

"We made plans for tomorrow night, you know", he states, opening the door. Only to come face to face with… nothing. He pokes his head out, looking down the hallway, only to come face to fist, with a man who has some serious talent for face busting.

"Jesus!", Tony curses, staggering back into his apartment.

"May I come in?", the intruder asks, his voice as cold as steel, obvious menace imbedded in his undertones. It's clear he's not here to watch some James Bond with buttery popcorn…

"Son of a bitch!", Tony yells, clutching his jaw, bloody from his split lip. He's had enough. He takes a well practiced swing at the man, hitting him hard in the jaw with a satisfying crack.

"Oh, hoho you are going to regret that", the man says, mirroring Tony's position, with his hand clutching his probably broken jaw.

1… 2… 3… They simultaneously lunge at the other. They meet each other halfway, capturing one another in an awkward half headlock/bear hug.

They battle for dominance or a few seconds before Tony lunges to the right, taking the intruder with him. He carefully aims him towards his living room lamp, and releases him just as the intruder stumbles into it. As he barrels over it and has trouble getting up, Tony looks around for the gun he was just wielding a minute ago, reciting his favorite lines.

With his attention focused on finding the gun, the intruder manages to surprise him. Tony is suddenly tackled of his feet, flying into a bookshelf, unceremoniously knocking the books to the ground. Tony finds that all the oxygen has been pushed out of his lungs and immediately barrels back into him, making him stumble over to the wall lined with Tony's movie collection, knocking countless numbers of his prized possessions to the floor. They each catch their breath, previously knocked out of them from being slammed into different shelves.

They eye each other, estimating when the other will make their move. Suddenly the intruder moves towards Tony and Tony also comes forward, with his hand curled in another fist; the intruder with a hand thrusting out a wet rag. The intruder gets to Tony first. Before Tony could process anything, he suddenly feels light headed. As darkness began to envelope his mind he had one final thought, 'Gibbs is gonna kill me'

…...

"I'm gonna kill him", Gibbs thought, as he saw that Tony's car was still safe and sound in the parking lot. He fumed, coming up the stairs to Tony's floor.

"Umm boss… you need to see this", said a nervous McGee, standing outside Tony's apartment. He and Ziva stepped aside to let Gibbs see. The door was open, and when Gibbs peered inside, ready to tear Tony's head of, he saw something that stopped his heart.

Tony's entire apartment looked like a tornado swept through. His shelves bashed in with books and movies scattered all over the floor as well as a smashed lamp tipped over. Then he saw something that made his blood run cold and leave his face completely. Blood.

…..

Thoughts? Looking for some guidance here people. Do you want ships? Do you want to torture Tony? Let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

Day1

…..

Tony DiNozzo woke up with a start. On pure reflex, he reaches for his alarm clock to turn it off, only to find that he can't move his arms. Once he realizes that he is in fact, not in his bed, he opens his eyes. He thinks he hasn't opened his eyes for a second, he blinks a few times and then he realizes, he is surrounded by pitch blackness. He also realizes that he is strapped to a wooden chair, his legs included.

'I really hate Mondays', he thinks. He knows he should be terrified right now; yet, he's been through much worse. It's really kind of sad.

He takes a moment to take stock of the situation. He was watching James bond, then attacked by Mr. Face buster… what?… an hour ago? He can't even tell because, oh yeah, he can't see a thing. He sighs. 'The guy couldn't even have the decency to get a torture room with windows?'

So, he can't see.

Check.

He can't move.

Check.

He still has some side effects from whatever was on that rag. Probably chloroform.

Check.

"How cliché", Tony says, this time out loud. He laughs to himself. Maybe they had a microphone trained on him, or a night vision camera. 'That would make this the epitome of clichés', he thought. This is actually just like… wow… this stuff must me messing with my brain if I can't even remember the movie.

He replays everything that happened, over an over again. He gets to the point of boredom where he starts to think of his kidnapping as a movie, and he starts to adjust the lighting in and add music to it, in his mind. When he gets to the point of his and the intruders quarrel when they simultaneously lunge at each other, he adds a song. 'Can you meet me halfway, right on the borderline…' Starts to play over their struggle.

It's at this point where Tony decides that this movie is going to be a comedy. Just when his mind movie is catching up to him, and he is plotting his escape like a true protagonist should, he hears a door open.

…..

On the other side of the 2-way mirror, Trent Kort waits for his new recruit to wake up. He watches smugly as Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo struggles with his bond and strains to see. He had a night vision camera watching his every move.

He had hired a man to abduct Anthony DiNozzo. His plan was genius really, if he said so himself.

First, he would have the same man ho abducted Tony, torture him, all the while telling him things to make him lose the values he holds so near and dear to his heart. He would make Tony lose all his humanity.

Second, Kort himself would 'rescue' Tony. He would befriend him, gain his trust. He would then tell him lies of how his team had hired the torturer. How they had wanted to get rid of him, how they didn't appreciate him like I do.

Third, I will train him to be my second in command; the ultimate assassin. Project Frankenstein may have been a failure, but

His smug face soon disappears as his victim does not seem terrified at all. If anything, he looks amused.

Tony only continues to confuse Kort more as Kort hears him say that his situation is cliché. When Tony starts laughing though, his confusion turns to anger.

'He will not be laughing when I am through with him', Kort thinks. It is only when he starts to hear Tony sing a pop song he once heard on the radio, does he start to wonder if Tony DiNozzo is already insane. It would surely make his plan easier.

After a few more minutes, Kort decides it's time for Tony's first session. He signals for the Intruder to go in, from where he currently was; looking at his injured jaw in the mirror. He sighs. It's so hard to find good kidnappers and tortures these days…

…..

Meanwhile, at NCIS…

Gibbs was working the team hard, not that they minded. They wouldn't sleep until they found Tony; they wouldn't even eat until they found a lead. Abby was working herself especially hard. Gibbs is currently going to her lab, Caf-Pow in hand.

Gibbs walks in, only to be greeted by at least 15 empty Caf-Pows displayed all over labby. Under further investigation, his eyes come across a pair of platform boots, sticking out from under Abby's desk.

"Abby!", Gibbs calls out to the protruding boots.

He walks over to the desk, and crouches down to the opening. He sees Abby, bent over in child's play yoga position. After a second, he hears some mumblings, and figures she must be praying. He waits a moment for her to finish.

"Abby", he whispers to a now crying Goth. She slowly raises her head and looks at Gibbs. She quickly tackles the crouched Gibbs to the floor.

"Why is it always Tony, Gibbs?", Abby sobs into Gibb's shoulder. He soothingly pats her head and kisses her hair. He doesn't quite know how to answer that. Why is it always Tony?

"I don't know Abs, I don't know", he whispers into her hair. He starts to feel the stinging of tears starting to form. He hasn't even allowed himself to think of what Tony might be going through right now.

His despair suddenly changes to anger. If they lay a finger one of his surrogate children, he will kill them. He then remembers what he came down here for, in the first place.

"Abby", he whispers. Then in his regular voice, "what do you got?"

She quickly wipes her running mascara and gets up. She walks over to her computer a bit shaky, and starts typing at her usual lightning speed.

"I pulled a partial off the smashed lamp", she says as she pulls up the AFIS program.

"AFIS still hasn't found any matches. I've already checked the entire Navy database; right now I'm running through criminals recently out of prison", Abby says solemnly.

"Someone Tony arrested could have had a vendetta, great thinking Abs", Gibbs says. He then hugs Abby from behind.

"We'll find him, Abs", he whispers in her ear. He them picks up her Caf-Pow from the ground, where he left it before getting tackled.

He gives her a kiss on the forehead and whispers, "We always do"

…

Is there enough Papa Gibbs? Should we take a look at Ziva and McGee's reactions? Should Tony go insane? I rely on reviews for my chapters. Whatever you want or don't want, tell me.


	3. Chapter 3

….

As the door opens, the lights turn on. Tony looks up and his face breaks into a wide smile as he sees the door close behind the new comer. He is now looking at his kidnapper. He mentally throws a pity party, cursing his luck and hero complex before setting his unbreakable mask.

"Why good morning Mr. Intruder, no, I think I'll call you Steve. Hey Steve, wait, is it actually afternoon?" Tony quizzes the stoic man.

He gets no response. He puts on a disgusted face and looks at his surroundings for the first time, looking casual, as if inspecting it for health violations. He takes in the concrete walls, no windows and one-way mirror and mentally curses everything from physcos to timeshares. There was a mastermind with some kind of motive to this plan, and hopefully, Gibbs would find it out in time.

"Evening?" he asks again. The man simply glowers at him, holding his broken jaw. Tony takes a minute to properly observe his captor.

He didn't exactly memorize the guy while he was fighting for his freedom.

He is dressed in all black, making Tony sigh internally; yet another cliché. He then takes in the blonde hair and dark brown, lifeless eyes. He remembers when he was undercover as Jean-Paul Ranier and was punched by a similar looking man and then sighs out loud this time.

"You should know that this isn't my first time. He actually looked a lot like you," Tony taunts nodding his head, turning up his charm with a dazzling smile just to annoy him.

'This movie is a comedy after all,' he thinks, still thinking of his situation as a movie. His last comment seems to strike a nerve. Steve clenches his teeth and the muscles in his jaw and temple flex. He still doesn't say a word though. That was going to change soon. If he was going to die, he might as well have some fun, right? He waits some more for any kind of reaction; nothing.

"Not much of a talker, are you Steve? Well that's fine with me, you can just be a good little listener. You know, this reminds me of a movie: Proof of Life. It's a good movie, Russell Crowe was amazing, you should see it," Tony rambles, all the while observing the man struggling control his temper.

Tony then begins to recite the movie line for line, and explains the scenes as a narrator, to his captor. Just when he gets to the part where the main character, Alice, hires a professional negotiator to release her husband from his South African captors, he stops.

"Am I in a foreign country?" Tony asks Steve, in a patronizing tone; only half kidding. Steve, who by now was leaning against a wall twitching minutely, still fails to communicate.

"Look Steve, you and I both know you aren't smart enough to be the mastermind here, so why don't you send them in and let the gown ups talk," Tony patronizes him again, hoping to get to the bottom of things.

"You vill not be talking for long," Steve informs him in a Russian accent, giving a devilish smirk that would have a lesser man quaking in his boots.

By his arrogant tone, Tony suffices that he expects him to be doing just that, maybe even begging for mercy.

'Won't he be in for a surprise,' Tony thinks, again disappointed by Steve's unoriginality. Though the thought of Steve being some kind of mercenary thoroughly confused and terrified him, there was no way in hell he would ever show it. He takes a vow at that second. He will never

"You weren't hugged enough as a child, huh Steve?" Tony whispers to him as if they're best friends sharing a secret.

Steve's jaw ticks and his hands clench into fists, which Tony notes, are bruised.

'Oh yeah,' Tony thinks just then remembering a little detail.

'I got punched in the face,' the voice in his head awkward, as if stating the weather to a neighbor he barely knows the name of.

"Or were you hugged a bit too much?" Tony asks, now whispering conspiratively.

Steve's breathing increases as he takes a threatening step forward.

"Bingo," Tony states, raising his eyebrows. He's sure having fun.

Steve is now breathing through flared nostrils like a bull. His face is red and his knuckles white. He takes another overly dramatic step towards Tony, surely fueled by pure testosterone now. He stands in front of Tony, towering over his seated figure. His eyes portraying an emotion for once, one that Tony knows all too well. Steve slowly, almost lovingly, pulls out a blade.

"Talk about Déjà vu," Tony comments, his face only showing amusement. Inside, his stomach clenches and he's filled with dread. He is completely vulnerable, at a nut job's mercy.

He was so dead.

Suddenly an alarm sounds, sounding like an alarm clock more than anything. Steve straightens up, his angry expression mirroring one of a five year old's, who just had his toy taken away.

"You is lucky, dis time," Steve spits out, leaning into Tony's personal space.

"Were lucky," Tony corrects in a matter of fact tone, like he wasn't strapped in a chair being observed by an unknown person.

Tony feels a pang of longing when he thinks of how he always corrects Ziva's Ziva-isms. Steve gives him one last glare before straightening up and turning his back to Tony.

"And say it don't spray it!" Tony calls out to him as he reaches the door.

Steve only turns the light back off, shrouding the concrete walls in darkness once again. Tony is then left to his thoughts, with only his old friend, darkness, as company.

Then a single gun-shot rang out.

….

Trent Kort was starting to regret picking DiNozzo for this project.

When his hired hand first entered, he was sure DiNozzo was full of false bravado. Though as things progressed, he could not, for all his C.I.A. training, see a dash of fear or uncertainty on his face.

He was nursing a headache when DiNozzo began to give the play by play of one of his precious movies. He watched closely though, as Steve fell victim to DiNozzo's teasing. Of course his name was not really Steve, but with mercenaries, you don't ask and they don't tell. He actually thought Steve suited him.

He could clearly see that DiNozzo was not only successfully manipulating the Russian, but even enjoying it. Maybe he did make the right choice in the captive, just not the captor.

As Steve let his emotions and pride get the best of him, it only insured his assumption.

Steve had to go.

Now what kind of C.I.A. agent would he be if he left loose ends?

He quickly came to a decision. He presses the alarm and checked that he had his side arm.

As Steve stalked back in fuming, surely ready to give Kort a mouth full, Kort raised his Glock.

"I'm afraid your services are no longer required," Trent informs the man, before pulling the trigger.

*Bam*

Steve crumples lifelessly to the ground, a hole placed between his eyes.

"You just can't find good help these days," Kort states to the empty observation room.

He sighs. He then goes about contacting a few friends. He needed a clean up crew and a new mercenary. Hopefully, this one will get the job done.


End file.
